The World's Not Waiting For You (FOB FanFic ft. Brendon Urie)

Chapter 2

Pete paid for the meal and the two of us walked out of the restaurant, getting in his car. I buckled my seat belt and he stuck his key into the ignition. "Where am I going to go?" I asked him as he turned the key, causing the car engine to roar to life. "I don't have a home, I don't have a family, I don't have anything."

"That's not true. You've got me," He retorted, looking over his shoulder and backing out of the parking spot he was in.

"Yeah, Pete, but-"

"So you can't say you don't have anything," He cut me off, returning his attention forward and pressing down on the gas pedal, propelling us and the car towards the road.

"That's besides the point, Pete, I need a place to stay."

"You can stay with me," He offered.

"Pete, I couldn't ask you to do something like that."

"We're friends, Patrick, you don't need to ask." He glanced over at me and the corner of his lip curled up into a smirk.

"Still."

"You're staying with me, Patrick, and that's final, okay?"

"O-Okay," I stuttered, kind of suspicious as to why he was so eager and determined to let me stay with him.

We arrived at his house about thirty minutes later. The two of us got out of the car and he led me to the front door, where he put his key into the lock and unlocked the door, pushing it open.

"I'm home!" Pete called.

"Daddy!" A small child's voice sounded. The next I know, a small child I didn't recognize rushed up to Pete and hugged his legs. Pete bent down and picked the child up.

"Hey, buddy, you remember Uncle Patrick, right?" Pete turned towards me and smiled. I stared at him and the child, confused beyond belief. The child sure wasn't Bronx, because the last I remember, Bronx was seven. And Bronx was bigger than the size of this child was at seven. If it wasn't Bronx, then...it had to be Saint! God, he got so big.

"Uncle Patrick?" Saint repeated, as if he was learning my name for the first time.

"Yeah, Uncle Patrick! He's daddy's best friend!" I noticed how Pete's voice changed when he was talked to his kids. Kind of like how I changed my voice when I talked to Declan... I frowned, thinking about that. "Say hi to Uncle Patrick, Saint!"

"Hi to Uncle Patrick, Saint!" Saint recited, followed by a giggle. Pete laughed and kissed the now four-year-old Saint on the head, setting him down on the ground and having him run off into the house.

"He's a handful," Pete commented, slipping his hands into the pockets of his pants and looking over at me. He noticed the stupor I had gone into and cleared his throat, "So, um-"

Before he could say anything, I blurted out, "Where's Meagan?"

Pete's face dropped, "Um...she...she's gone." A look of sympathy appeared on my face. "Yeah, some things happened that I really don't want to get into detail with, but I got Saint in the end. He's the only thing I have left of her..."

"You were so happy with her, though." I retorted, assuming that she broke up with him.

"Yeah. Hey, let me show you the room you'll be staying in." He changed subjects, going upstairs. I stood there for a little before following after him. I found him standing in the hallway, his head in one of the rooms.

"Come on, Bronx, you can at least say hi," Pete's voice sounded.

"No!" Bronx replied from inside, what I assumed was, his bedroom.

"Look, he's going to be staying in there with you, so you're going to have to say hi to him sooner or later."

"No!" Bronx repeated, followed by footsteps. Pete jumped back and and door slammed shut. Pete closed his eyes and leaned against the wall across from the room, rubbing his face with his hands.

"Was that Bronx?" I asked stupidly. Pete looked over at me, peeling himself away from the wall.

"Yeah. He's just being a little brat right now. Not too excited that he's going to be sharing the spare bedroom with someone."

"He lives here too?"

"Well," He walked over to me and whispered, "He doesn't know it yet - he thinks he's just staying here until Ashlee returns from her honeymoon with that new husband of hers - but she's not returning. So he's going to live here full time now."

"Oh."

"Yeah...I don't know if and when I should tell him."

"Probably before Bronx becomes suspicious."

He chuckled, "Thanks, Captain Obvious. Well, let me show you the room," He grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open. He was immediately hit in the face with a pillow. He didn't even react at all, just grabbed the pillow and threw it aside. "Bronx, say hi to Patrick." The curly haired boy's eyes met mine and narrowed. He was sitting on the foot of his bed, his arms crossed over his chest. I stared at him apprehensively. "Bronx!" Pete snapped his fingers at Bronx. He and I continued our stare down. "BRONX!" Pete shouted, getting frustrated.

Keeping my eyes locked on the eleven year old, I asked Pete, "Am I sleeping on the other bed?"

"Yeah, sorry it's not very big," He apologized.

"It's fine." I didn't even think it was possible, but I was pretty sure that Bronx's eyes narrowed even more than they already were.

"Alright, well, I'm going to go start dinner." Pete placed his hand on my shoulder. "Get yourself settled in, Patrick, make the bed while you're at it. Bronx can help you, if need be," He glanced over at his son briefly before looking back at me, "Cool?"

"Cool," I responded unconsciously, Bronx and I still going at our staring contest.

"And you better help him, Bronx, or else, got it?" He asked his son.

"No," Bronx remarked sassily, still staring into my soul.

Pete shook his head and went to leave, patting me on the shoulder and walking out of the room, leaving me and his son alone. Bronx stood up and approached me. I looked down at him. He put his hands on his hips.

"My mom told me what you did."

"Oh did she?" I retorted, trying to act like some big strong guy I wasn't.

"Yeah."

"And...?"

"She told me not to talk to you."

"Well I guess you didn't listen to your mom, then, since you're talking to me right now."

"I will never talk to you!" He shouted at me, brushing past me and out of the bedroom. I heaved a sigh and walked over to the bed that was a few feet away from Bronx's. I picked up the sheets and began to unfold them.